Tastes Like Pork
by NorthofConfusion
Summary: It was supposed to be a peaceful evening in the Ultra-Luxe.
1. Some 'Relaxing' Evening

A/N: First of all, I don't own Fallout. This is basically a novelisation of the 'Beyond the Beef' quest. However, I've changed the speech a bit and added a bit of backstory, if that makes sense lol. Also, at a certain point I'll be straying a bit away from what is supposed to happen in the quest. Simple reason is because I can't complete this quest. Unless I want to kill all of the White Glove Society, but I'm going off topic. Anyhoo, enjoy :)

* * *

"_What a day!_" thought the Courier. After putting up with the constant gunfire from Fiends, countless attempts to understand that mutant called Mah-something-blah from Westside and finding a random molerat in 'Jimmy's' Well, it was time to head off to the Strip to relax. Even then, there was the trouble of picking which casino to relax in.

Lucky 38 was out of the question immediately. No point in going into a casino where it's empty except for a few robots here and there. Gomorrah wasn't the Courier's first choice either. The memory of a ghoul prostitute who had trouble of taking no for an answer still lingered in her mind. Yes, Gomorrah was definiately out of the question.

That left the Tops and the Ultra-Luxe. The Tops wasn't that bad of a place. Booze, gambling and entertainment were all certainly big ticks. The only trouble was that every time she entered the casino, Swank would bombard her with questions concerning the disappearance of Benny. Just because she slept with him the once doesn't mean she had a tag on him. Heck, the Courier was pretty certain that she wasn't in her right mind when she did the deed with him. She was certain she had a couple of drinks in her when she made the decision.

So, that left Ultra-Luxe. The Courier had never actually been in the casino before. Sure it looked pretty, but the place was owned by the snooty White Glove Society. Did the Courier really want to endure the remarks of the White Gloves while they look down at her in disgust? She shrugged her shoulders.

"Ah, what the hell?" she spoke out loud. She had worst things before. Like being shot in the head for example.

Upon entering the high-class casino, she was stopped by one of the members.

"Beg your pardon, but could I trouble you to turn over your weapons?" he asked.

"Yea, sure whatever," was the Courier's reply. After handing over all the weapons she acquired since waking up in Goodsprings, the Courier went straight to the bar. A nice alcoholic beverage would be a welcoming way to end the stressful day.

While walking to the bar, the Courier couldn't help but notice the guy in a cowboy hat, complete with a shirt and dungarees. She also noticed the large gun in his hands. The guy caught her staring and snarled,

"Want a picture?" The Courier put her hands up in defence and quickly replied,

"Woah, hold up there! I was just wondering why you're able to carry that gun here."

"So I can shoot you if you carry on bothering me," the cowboy threatened menacingly. The Courier backed away from him and headed to the nearest seat.

Just before she could order her drink, the Courier felt a tap on the shoulder. It came from the person sitting next to her. She turned to face an older man in a brown suit. On top of his grey hair was a cowboy hat. Similar to the guy with the gun, but his was a muddy brown colour. He asked,

"I beg you pardon mam, but I'm looking for someone. You ain't seen a young man lately have you? He's got dark brown hair and a white hat." The Courier wondered if she had, but had to shake her head and reply,

"No, sorry." The old man sighed desperately,

"Damn it. Ain't nobody got one lousy speck of information about my boy? I've only been here one hour and already my son's disappeared on me!"

Intrigued, the Courier asked,

"If you don't mind me asking, why are you here? You don't look snobby to be staying in a place like this." The old man chuckled,

"I'm here for business. The Ultra-Luxe get their Brahmin steak from my range. Got a whole load of Brahmin and Big Horners to my name. I have a lot of land, so I quite popular around the Mojave wasteland. By the way, name's Heck Gunderson." The two shook their hands after their introductions.

Another question popped into the Courier's mind.

"Is that why you have a bodyguard? Why he is allowed to have a gun?" The bodyguard heard the questions and stared angrily at the Courier. She chose to ignore him. Heck explained,

"It's an arrangement with the casino. If they want business with me, they have to play by my rules. I should've had him watching my boy though. None of this would have happened then." The Courier sympathised with Heck. She offered,

"I'll go look for your son, Mr Gunderson. I'm good at finding people."

Heck's face brightened up.

"Ah, why thank you mam. I'd be so grateful. His name is Ted and he went missing after I had to talk to some White Gloves. I was hoping he would come back here, but I've had to give up on that hope. If you get him back, I'll pay you well. And if not, I'll make sure those sons of bitches who're responsible definitely get their comeuppance." The Courier rose out of her seat and sai goodbye to Heck.

After leaving Heck and his bodyguard, the Courier let out a sigh. Why did she agree to go looking for this 'Ted'? The evening was supposed to be a peaceful one. One where she didn't have to go finding some missing person. All for she knew, this Ted could have gone to another casino!

"_No, no! He's probably at another part of the casino._" the Courier concluded silently. So she would have to go looking around the huge place. It'd be a good way of exploring the casino and what other services it provided. What's the worst that could happen?


	2. WHAT!

Ultra-Luxe proved to be a difficult place to explore. It took the Courier a good while to realise her Pip-Boy might come in handy. She still wasn't used to the strange device strapped on her right arm. With the help of it, she was able to arrive at what looked like a reception in the Gourmand. At the reception was a woman with brown hair and in a pink dress. Surprisingly, she wore no mask.

The Courier approached the woman, who smiled at her and greeted,

"Welcome to the Ultra-Luxe. My name is Majorie. I do hope the Ultra-Luxe exceeds your expectations."

The Courier smiled back and politely asked,

"Thank you. I was looking for someone who went missing. He-"

"This again?" Majorie interrupted. The Courier gave her a confused expression. Majorie continued,

"I answered every one of those question's the investigator asked and gave all the help I could. I admit our reputation is not spotless, but that's in the past. For the last time, the White Glove Society has never and will never consume human flesh."

The Courier stared at her. And stared some more. Majorie had to wave her hand in front of the Courier to bring her back to Earth. The Courier realised where she was again and replied,

"R-Right um … Could you tell me more about this investigator?" It seemed Heck had hired someone else to find his son before he met the Courier. Majorie answered,

"Last week, the investigator arrived in Ultra-Luxe. Apparently, a bride-to-be went missing here and the groom hired the investigator. However, it's pretty obvious she left due to cold feet."

"Hmm," the Courier pondered. This wasn't the first time someone's disappeared here. And the timing between the two disappearances wasn't far.

"_Maybe this investigator has some useful information,_" the Courier thought. She asked,

"Is the investigator still here?" Majorie nodded,

"Yes he is. As far as I'm aware of, he hasn't checked out. I made sure our maitre d', Mortimer, offered him a complimentary room." The Courier thanked Majorie and left to find Mortimer.

Luckily Mortimer was easy enough to find. Anyone who wore a top hat was always easy to spot out in this day and age. In his hands were a clipboard and pencil. He noticed the Courier was coming up to him, so he quickly set down the objects. He asked,

"How may I be of service, madam?" The Courier questioned,

"Majorie told me an investigator checked in about a week ago. Has he checked out?" Mortimer responded,

"I'll check for you now madam." Mortimer looked down to his record book, where all check ins and check outs were recorded. After a couple of minutes, he found the investigator's record in the book. He faced the Courier and answered,

"No, he's still in the hotel. If I might pry, have you found something that will help his information? It's a shame about the bride-to-be." The Courier shook her head,

"I just need to speak with him."

Mortimer was reluctant to give the young woman directions to the room. The Courier realised she would have to persuade him and added,

"If I speak with the investigator, it could help stop people talking about this place." Mortimer's eyes widened. He questioned,

"What does these 'people' say then about Ultra-Luxe?" The Courier had to hide her smirk. Going deeper into the little lie, she replied,

"Well, what's first? I mean there is the obvious gossip, about the whole 'consuming human flesh'-"

"Head back to the hotel rooms. His will be one floor directly above you after you will the lobby." he interrupted quickly and gave the key to the room to the Courier. She smiled sweetly,

"Thank you so much." She then made her way to the hotel rooms.

* * *

Even though the Courier had wanted a relaxing evening, she had to admit this little mission was turning out to be interesting. A guy goes missing in a casino, and it just so turns out that the Family of said casino are rumoured to be a bunch of cannibals! Could there be any more surprises?

Arriving at the room, she fished out the small key from her pocket. The Courier looked from side to side to see if anyone was looking at her suspiciously. Particularly any members of the White Glove Society. The only people were guests who were sitting down and talking. Feeling relieved, the Courier unlocked the door and went in. She expected to find the investigator sitting on a chair or sleeping in the bed.

Not dead on the floor, surrounded by a puddle of blood.

The Courier quickly shut the door and put her hand to her mouth. She gasped loudly. Talk about a twist! Thinking fast, the Courier searched the body. In one of his coat pockets, she found a folded up note. Under his jacket, she found a .22 silenced pistol. She grinned. Now she had a weapon in case things got difficult.

Suddenly, two loud knocks were made on the door. She muttered,

"Crap!" She bundled the note in her pocket and kept the pistol close to her. The Courier ran into the bathroom, closed the door and put her ear against the door. The door leading to the hallway was slammed open. The Courier heard loud footsteps. Panic began to set in. She instinctively grabbed the pistol tighter.

She heard a male, masked voice.

"Damn, she's already gone!" Another similar voice replied,

"How could she? She's only been in here for a few minutes." The Courier's heart was beating faster. By the sound of their voices, these men were White Gloves.

"Let's try the bathroom," suggested one of the men. The Courier cursed under her breath.

"_No, no, no!_" she screamed in her mind. The other voice replied,

"Don't bother, she's probably ran when she saw the body." The Courier heard more footsteps as the men left the room. Finally, she heard them close the door.

The Courier let out a sigh of relief. She slowly opened the bathroom door. Sure enough, only the body of the investigator was in the room. The Courier then opened the door and peered out to the hallway. Looking side to side, she couldn't see any White Glove members. Happy, she left the hotel room and headed down to the casino part of Ultra-Luxe to read the note.

"GET HER!" The Courier turned around to see two White Gloves members running towards her, brandishing canes in the air as weapons. The Courier ran down the staircase and ran straight to the door. Before she exited to the lobby, she turned to the men again. They were running down the staircase. Using her silenced pistol, she aimed and pulled the gun's trigger. The bullet went into the first White Glove's shoulder, making him drop the cane and fall down the staircase. She shot a second time, aiming towards the second's man leg. He too fell down the staircase.

Breathing fast, she hurriedly exited out of the doors. In her excitement, the Courier accidentally fell in front of some White Glove members. She winced at the pain in her head. Coming from up above she heard a female voice say,

"And this is exactly we shouldn't keep letting the riff-raff in." The Courier looked up to see two female and one male White Glove member. When the Courier imaged the White Glove Society looking down at her while remarking snide comments, she didn't think it would be this literal.

All the Courier could do in response was to glare at them. The White Glove members all rolled their eyes at her and passed by her into the doors. The Courier quickly stood up and began to walk off. Suddenly, she heard screams.

"Oh shit!" she exclaimed loudly. Her walk broke into a sprint and the Courier passed Mortimer, passed Heck and ran straight to the member who had her weapons.

"Gimme my weapons NOW!" she demanded. The White Glove looked at her with a confused expression and handed over all her weapons. The Courier resumed in her sprint and ran out of Ultra-Luxe into the Strip.

Again, in her haste, the Courier nearly fell after passing the Ultra-Luxe doors. People near the casino look round to see what had happened. All they saw the Courier breathless, her hand over her heart. When she noticed visitors and NCR soldiers staring at her, she glared at them.

"What the hell you all looking at?" she shouted. They quickly went back to what they were originally doing.

After taking a deep breath, the Courier sat on the steps leading up to Ultra-Luxe. She couldn't go back in there right now. Maybe wait at least for the night.

"Where can I go now?" she muttered under her breath. The Courier looked straight across to the other side of the Strip. It may not have been her first choice, but the Courier knew she was guaranteed a room for the night. The Tops it would have to be.


	3. NVCSI

By the Tops reception desk, Swank was admiring a customer's Light Machinery Gun. The customer was a traveller who mentioned something about touring around the Mojave wasteland. Swank wasn't listening to the man speak; he was more interested in the weapon strapped to his back. After handing over weapons, the traveller headed off to play some Blackjack, while Swank could have a chance of taking a closer look at the Light Machinery Gun.

The weapon had certainly brought Swank back to the good old days when he was known as a Boot Raider. Those were the days! When you could just shoot someone in the face and have no excuse. Sure in the Strip he could get free booze, gambling and easy access to women. But the freedom to do whatever the hell you want! Nothing could replace that in Swank's book.

His reminiscence was cut short when he heard the Tops entrance doors open loudly. Swank quickly put the Light Machinery Gun back with the traveller's other weapons. He was about to recite his introduction speech to the customer, until he saw their face.

"Well look what the cat dragged in!"

The customer was, of course, the Courier. Still slightly in shock over the past events in the Ultra-Luxe, the Courier was breathing fast and red in the face. She breathlessly replied,

"Hi Swank." Swank grinned at her.

"You like you're in a hurry doll. Maybe because … oh I don't know … you have some news about the big cat himself?" he asked, trying his best to make the question sound innocent.

The Courier didn't buy it. She rolled her eyes and frowned,

"No I do not any news about Benny. I'm working on it okay? For all I know, he's probably lying in a ditch dead." Swank replied,

"Okay, okay I get the point. So then what brings you to the Tops beautiful?"

"I need a room for the night. You do rent out rooms right?" the Courier asked.

Swank shook his head,

"We're all booked for the night baby."

The Courier sighed. Swank folded his arms and added,

"However, you can get a free room." The Courier looked at him with hopeful eyes.

"Really?" Swank replied with a smirk,

"Yea. Seeing as you're Benny's gal now, it's only fitting you get his suite." The Courier glared at Swank.

"I am not Benny's 'gal' nor I will ever be," she retorted back. Swank winked

"Whatever you say baby doll. Now do you want the room or not?" The Courier had to think about it. The room was free and nicely furnished. But it would have that damn robot Yes Man in it. Weighing the pros and cons, the Courier decided it would have to do.

"Okay, I'll have the room," she decided. Swank gave her a copy of Benny's suite key. The Courier then made her way to a elevator which took her up to the 13th floor. Benny's suite wasn't hard to find and surprisingly there were no bodyguards at his room. The Courier was sure there was at one standing guard the last time she was here. Although, she was a bit intoxicated the last time she was here.

Opening the doors, she was greeted by Yes Man.

"Oh hi again!" his optimistic voice rang through the room. The Courier grumbled,

"Hello." She plonked herself down the nearest sofa and stretched her arms. Today had been a _long_ day. And she still needed to sort out what to do next. However Yes Man continued to speak to her, not registering that she was tired.

"Are you any closer to getting rid of Mr. House yet? Sorry if I seem like an annoying pest, but the plan can't really work out well unless he's out of the picture. If you want, I can see whether Benny had any files on where Mr. House resides in the Lucky 38 and how to access that area. It shouldn't take-"

"Yes Man?" The Courier interrupted, her head in her hands. Yes Man looked at her with his permanent smile and replied,

"Yes?"

"Please shut up. I'm working on something else and the last thing I need is another person telling me to do this and to do that. So, for your sake, please shut up." Yes Man, taking no offence to her bluntness, whispered cheerily,

"Okay, no problem." The robot headed back to the bedroom to enter the hidden part of the suite.

The Courier laid back on the sofa, looking up at the ceiling. Even though the robot had no feelings, she shouldn't have took her anger out on Yes Man. It wasn't his fault that the whole Ultra-Luxe drama was brain aching. Benny had programmed the robot to be helpful and resourceful. It was in Yes Man's nature. Heck, knowing Benny, he probably programmed Yes Man to access every casino's computer data. It wouldn't surprise the Courier no bit.

Suddenly, an idea popped into the Courier's head. She literally ran to find Yes Man entering the hidden workshop by Benny's bedroom. She called out,

"Hey Yes Man. Do you know if you can access to other casinos apart from the Lucky 38?" Yes Man turned around to face her and replied,

"Of course! Benny liked to know what was going on behind the scenes in all the casinos. Lucky 38, Gomorrah, you name it." The Courier smiled wickedly,

"What about the Ultra-Luxe?" Yea Man answered,

"Oh yes. Why after Lucky 38, Benny went about accessing all of the Ultra-Luxe data. Don't ask me why though."

The Courier's grin widened.

"_Oh Benny, you can be a freaking genius sometimes,_" she thought. The Courier ordered Yes Man,

"Okay, I want you to give me all the data on the Ultra-Luxe. I want every possible bit of information." Yes Man nodded (well what could count as a 'nod') and went into to the workshop, typing rapidly on the computer. Meanwhile, the Courier leaned against one of the machinery.

Within less than a minute, Yes Man announced,

"Done! I've got all the data loaded up. Now, is there anything precisely you wanted or do you want to look at everything?" The Courier mused,

"Hmm, how much data is there on Ultra-Luxe?" Yes Man answered,

"Let me put it this way; a lot is too much of an understatement." The Courier gasped,

"That much? Yikes. Well, alright then, I'm looking for data involving investigators, missing people and 'consuming human flesh'." Yes Man went back to his rigorous typing.

Quick enough, the data on the computer narrowed down to a good few files. The Courier joined Yes Man and looked at the computer screen, deciding which files would be best to use. Scanning the screen, the Courier found one file mentioning the word 'investigator' in the title. Bingo!

"Open up that file," she requested, pointing at the particular file she wanted. Yes Man obeyed and soon enough the file popped up.

The file read:

'_I really cannot believe the drivel people will spread about our fine society. First of all, that quiet man who checked in yesterday (who I thought was a Tops spy) turns out to be an investigator. Then next he explains how someone apparently goes missing. A bride-to-be to be exact. And then to put the icing on the cake, he's heard rumours of cannibalism within the Ultra-Luxe. Honestly, people will believe anything these days! Naturally I told him those rumours were false and the bride had probably ran off. He didn't seem to believe me for some reason and walked off. I was infuriated. When I find the people who have spread these rumours, I'll make sure they're six feet under the ground._'

"_Interesting_," the Courier thought. The language in the file suggested that this belonged to Marjorie. This file was basically repeating what Marjorie had said earlier. But it sounded as though the cannibalism rumours had been going around for some time. And Marjorie was desperate to get rid of them. Desperate enough to kill the investigator? No, the Courier was certain that if Marjorie had bunked off the investigator, she wouldn't have done so messily.

The Courier looked at the other files. Looking at the data associated with them, she noticed these files belonged to a different computer than the first. She pointed to those and Yes Man clicked on them. There were four in total and all short.

Starting with the first file they read:

'_First night at Ultra-Luxe. Unsurprisingly, I had to give in 'all' of my weapons. Thank God for my silenced pistol! So far nothing looks suspicious. No hints of cannibalism, but my contact did say the cannibalism was kept top secret. Must question the receptionist tomorrow._'

'_Just got back from questioning the receptionist. From the moment I told her why I had been sent here, she had the face of an irritated bloatfly! The weird thing is, I didn't even ask about cannibalism, she just blurted it out. However she denied any cannibalism activity. If there is anything odd going around here, it's happening under her nose. Interesting. Maybe something is happening under the covers? Must interrogate more members.'_

'_Been two days since my last report. Either some really don't a clue about the rumoured cannibalism or they're playing dumb. However I did have one interesting conservation. With a certain member named Mortimer. Now I'm no psychologist but I'm pretty sure something is up when a person acts shifty, sweating on their fore brow and can't keep their eyes on you. From now on, I'd best keep my profile down low.'_

'_Just got a note from my contact. Found it under my hotel door. Hopefully, he's asking to meet up. I'm getting seriously concerned with this investigation. During the whole day I've had looks from White Glove members. At first, I wasn't bothered. But now … it's worrying. My cover may have been blown. I'm thinking that Marjorie may have- Damn that's the door.'_

The entries stopped. The Courier pondered in thought. Well, it seemed obvious that the investigator was killed by the White Gloves. But which White Glove member exactly? Marjorie was still out the of the question. Mortimer however was a different story. When the investigator questioned him, he practically turned into a wreck. This could suggest he got scared or worried. All the worry and fear may had turned into despair. And then desperation to stop the worry?

All this could suggest Mortimer as the murderer. A man, racked with worry that the cannibalism might be made public because of one investigator. Desperate to get rid of the one cause of his worry, he would have gone to great lengths, e.g. murder. Mortimer was a wreck when being questioned by the investigator, and even starting to act weird when being questioned by the Courier.

But there was one problem the Courier still couldn't find the answer to. If Mortimer was the killer, why did he sent her straight to the crime scene? The Courier narrowed her eyes, deep in thought. Was she forgetting one major point?

Yes Man meanwhile was staring at the Courier. He could tell she was focused on something important. Analysing her appearance, the robot thought out loud,

"Were you in a fight before you got here? You look dishevelled." The Courier looked at the robot and replied,

"Oh yea. Two guys just ambushed me in the-" She stopped. The two White Glove members! Could they complete the puzzle?

They could! The Courier grabbed Yes Man and kissed his monitor.

"You are amazing Yes Man! Just fucking amazing!" Yes Man still smiled but replied confusingly,

"Thank you, but could you explain please?" The Courier let go of the robot and beamed at him. She explained,

"Well, it's obvious isn't it? Mortimer killed the investigator. I mean, sure I can't be exact here. But it all fits. Mortimer got questioned by the investigator, which got him scared and worried. Worried that the cannibalism will be found out. Now this worry would turn into desperation. Desperation to get rid of the investigator so he wouldn't squeal. And by 'get rid' I mean murder in cold blood!

"Now of course this doesn't explain why he sent me to the investigator's room if he left the body in there. But I remember that Mortimer only gave me the key until I mention cannibalism. Again he got scared. So he must have decided to send me up to the room where I also would be killed. Think about it, he sends me up to the room, I find the body while he sends up two men after me and order them to kill me. God I'm brilliant!" She finished with a dramatic pose by putting her hands on her hips and looking up to the ceiling, smiling.

Of course, Yes Man hadn't a clue what the Courier was going on about. But he decided to play along with it for now.

"In this room, did you find anything useful?" he asked for no particular reason. Only to humour her. The Courier gasped and quickly searched through her pockets. In her jacket pocket she found the note that was on the investigator's body. Yes Man was curious and asked,

"What does it say?" She replied,

"4pm. Steam room." Yes Man, even more puzzled, again questioned,

"What does it mean?"

"It means," The Courier began, folding up the note and putting it back in her pocket,

"I'm gonna find out what the hell is going on."

* * *

Is it good? Is it crap? Let me now cause' I'm not sure with it XD Also, the next chapter will be delayed to a fortnight. Stuff has come up (*cough*EXAMS*cough*) that just can't be avoided. Hope you enjoyed :)


	4. The Next Day

The next day had arrived. After the Courier's investigation, she had decided to wind down and get some sleep. The Courier had the best sleep in a long time. Probably since the last time she was here. Benny may have been an absolute rat bag, but damn had he good taste in furniture!

The Courier woke up feeling refreshed and relaxed. After a couple of stretches and getting dressed, she tucked into a box of Sugar Bombs and washed them down with a cool bottle of Sunset Sarsaparilla. Not the most ideal breakfast, but these were harsh times after all.

Before heading out, the Courier quickly gathered her things. She made especially sure to keep a good stock of Stimpacks and Stealth Boys. The Courier also checked her new silenced pistol was kept hidden so no one would be able to see it. That pistol was going to be the only thing that kept her alive if the Courier was going to face any more trouble.

Just before leaving, the Courier looked at her Pip-Boy for the time. 2:00 pm. She had two hours until meeting the investigator. The Courier quickly left Benny's suite and passed through the casino. Just as she was about to leave, she caught Swank's eye and gave him a little wave goodbye. He returned the gesture with a wink.

Surprisingly the Strip seemed pretty empty outside. There were only NCR troops keeping patrol while enduring what seemed like a hangover, along the odd group of gamblers. The Courier swiftly made her way to the Ultra-Luxe. While she was walking, she passed two gamblers who were in conservation. She managed to hear,

"You hear about those two security guards that got shot? Had to be taken to the medical clinic outside of the Crimson Caravans!"

"Wow! Who shot them?"

"Nobody knows. Well, that's what they say. I reckon them White Gloves are keeping' quiet on summat."

The Courier stopped and slowly look at them. They didn't notice her and went on their way to another casino. The Courier's eyes widened and her mind was racing. What if the White Gloves were after her? The Courier immediately shook the thoughts out of her head. No, now was not the time to be getting worried. Doubt quickly came back into her mind, despite her reassurances.

"_Maybe it would be best to get a change of clothes._" she told herself mentally.

Luckily she had a Kings jacket on her, so she quickly put it on. With her loose hair, she scrunched it up in a high ponytail. Finally she got out a pair of sunglasses she gotten ages ago from some dead body. The Courier didn't look that much different from yesterday, but it would have to do.

The Courier hesitantly entered the Ultra-Luxe. Again she had to go through the routine of handing over her weapons. Luckily, the White Glove didn't notice her hidden pistol, and also didn't seem to recognise her. Looking around the place, none of the White Gloves took notice of her. The Courier smiled.

"_Things might be looking up for me_," she thought, pleased. The Courier went to play a few hands of Blackjack, something that was supposed to have happened last night.

* * *

Time flies when you're having fun as the expression goes. After winning and losing hands, the Courier was surprised when the time had come to 3:50 pm. She decided to stop playing and look for the steam room. She had a good idea of where the steam room. While she was looking for the Gourmand, she had stumbled across the indoor pool. This would be the first place to explore.

Within 10 minutes, the Courier managed to find the steam room. It took a little difficulty as the steam room wasn't noticeable as the Courier had imagined it to be. Surprisingly, no one was near the steam room. They were all by the pool, either relaxing or swimming. The Courier originally presumed the contact would have been waiting by the door. Since no one was around, she had to guess that the contact was actually in the steam room. She cautiously opened the door, hoping this contact was fully clothed and not half-naked with a towel.

Opening the door, she found a suited man waiting patiently. He looked exactly like one of the White Glove but without the mask. The Courier looked at him suspiciously. If the guy was a White Glove, than for all the Courier knew, he could be a spy sent by Mortimer. The suited man looked at the Courier in surprise. He asked alarmed,

"Who are you?"

The Courier closed the door and leaned against it. She replied with a raised eyebrow,

"I was gonna ask you the same thing. You first." The man's expression changed to relief. He sighed,

"Thank God. They didn't send you after me. I'm Chauncey. I was supposed to meet a gentleman here. You know where he is?" The Courier answered,

"If he's where I found him, lying in a puddle of his own blood in one of the suites."

Chauncey's eyes widened.

"Are you serious? Damn! They must have found out he was talking to someone on the inside." He bowed his head down, muttering,

"I knew this was a mistake." The Courier stood up off the wall and ranted,

"Look can you please tell what the hell is going on here? I mean I was expecting to look for a guy who got lost in the building. Instead, I find out there's a huge secret about cannibalism, of all things, going on around here. And then to top it all off, I get nearly blooming kill by guys waving fucking canes at me!"

The Courier took a deep breath after her rant. She had caused herself to be angry, but she couldn't take it out on this guy. He seemed to be decent enough. Chauncey sighed again,

"Listen, you shouldn't have got yourself involved. But I guess it's too late for that. Look there is some shady business going on behind the White Gloves. It's all because of Mortimer." The Courier raised an eyebrow.

"Mortimer." she repeated slowly. Chauncey looked up at her and replied,

"He's behind the disappearances. The girl, the guy yesterday. And now he's killed the investigator. If he realises it's me the investigator was planning to meet, I'm a dead man."

The Courier changed the topic to get some idea of the situation.

"Wait, so if Mortimer is behind all of this, is he the one that's started the whole cannibalism?" she asked curiously. Chauncey answered,

"We weren't always the White Glove Society. Before, there was cannibalism. Nowadays the White Glove Society strictly forbids it. But Mortimer and some of the others have … regressed … to the old ways. They used to take people from Freeside, North Vegas. Anyone that wouldn't be missed. But now they're getting tourists. I guess that's the hazard of a cannibal becoming a gourmand - it's hard to please a refined plate."

"Right, so this is what you and the investigator were going to discuss about?" the Courier questioned. Chauncey replied,

"We were going to discuss about the girl. I know what happened to her. I had to distract her finance while they took her away. Something I'm not proud of."

"Wait you mean you were a cannibal?" the Courier interrupted. Chauncey shook his head hastily, saying,

"No, I joined them thinking it was politics. They were talking about how we lost our identity. But, then they starting talking about going back to the old ways. By then, I couldn't get out. They'd kill me for the things I'd heard them say." The Courier nodded, taking it all in.

The Courier asked another question.

"So what of Ted Gunderson, the guy I'm looking for?" Chauncey answered,

"He's alive. Not sure where they've put him exactly but I know they're keeping him fresh. Mortimer has special plans." The Courier gave Chauncey an intrigued look. Chauncey continued,

"Every night at 7, we have a banquet in our private section. Tonight, Mortimer's planning to put human meat in the menu secretly. After everyone's eaten, he'll tell them. Mortimer believes their minds will open to the idea of eating people as a delicacy. Actually, you know what? I reckon that Tim'll be hidden in the kitchens in the private section."

The Courier thought of the private section. She recalled passing by it yesterday. It was blocked by rails and no doubt there would be guards by the other side. The Courier wondered,

"How would I be able to get in the private section?" Chauncey thought for a moment.

"I … could sponsor you as an honorary member. You'd be able to get in the private section with no trouble then." The Courier smiled,

"Thanks. What should I do when I get in there?"

"Well, I think it's best to sabotage Mortimer's plan in every possible way. I know they'll be sampling Pre-War wines before the meal. You could drug the wine. But you need to expose Mortimer. These kidnappings can't go on. But, he's already going to confess anyway …"

Both thought of what to do after. Suddenly, an idea formed in the Courier's mind.

"Hang on, what if Mortimer was the only one to eat human flesh? Than he would be the only one to be a confessed cannibal!" Chauncey nodded, agreeing with the idea.

"Maybe you could replace Philippe, the chef, and use substitute meat instead. It'd have to be convincing. Maybe there's some Pre-War meat in the kitchen pantry, like pork. It wouldn't surprise me. Or maybe get Philippe's recipe. I know he's been trying to perfect something similar for years. And then, after Mortimer speaks, you could bring Ted right in."

Everything seemed to fit in place. Chauncey would sponsor the Courier, giving her the chance to venture into the kitchens. Then, the Courier can drug the wine, knock out the chef, use substitute meat and find Ted. All she had to do then was to wait until 7pm where Mortimer would be ousted out as a cold-blooded cannibal and it would be death by a bullet for him. Easy enough plan.

"Right, we best be off then," the Courier concluded. Chauncey replied,

"Yea. I'll get you sponsored straight away. It shouldn't take too-" He was interrupted by the sound of footsteps. Approaching. Chauncey whispered carefully,

"Were you followed?"

The door opened. The Courier immediately back away to the other side of the room. One minute Chauncey was alive. The next he was slumped over his seat dead. The Courier hastily got out a Stealth Boy and used it, quickly becoming invisible. Suddenly, Chauncey's assassin entered the steam room, a silenced pistol clutched in his hand. He looked around. The Courier kept still, her heart racing. After a couple of minutes, the assassin left and muttered,

"I'll find her."

The Courier quickly followed him and got out her silenced pistol. With two shots, she aimed at his head. He fell onto the floor in a slump. Luckily, no one noticed. The Courier quickly grabbed the body and carried it into the steam room. Searching the body, she found some ammunition for the pistol. She took the ammunition and left the steam room. She closed the door behind her and swiftly left. As she left the indoor pool, the Stealth Boy wore off.

Anger rose up in the Courier. Easy enough plan she told herself. The Courier rolled her eyes at herself. How typical that she would have jinxed it all now. She covered her face with her hands and muttered,

"Pull together!" Luckily she couldn't hear any screams coming from the indoor pool, which meant no one found the bodies. Hopefully it would be a while before the bodies were discovered.

The Courier sighed. The death of Chauncey caused serious trouble for her. He was going to sponsor her. He was the only White Glove she had the most conversation with. Who else could she get to sponsor? The Courier didn't know any others and she was sure that Mortimer wouldn't sponsor her. All for the Courier knew, he probably thought the Courier had ran a mile after seeing the investigator's body and immediately being attacked.

However, there was one person who could help. Sure, they had never spoken as much as the Courier did with Chauncey. But it was her best shot. Her only shot. The Courier decided to put her thought into action and head off to the next best person after Chauncey. Marjorie.


	5. Welcome to the White Glove Society!

A/N: This is where start to get a little different.

* * *

Marjorie was busy looking through the files on her computer. Particularly the files which held records of the guests of the casino. Ever since the Courier had left, Marjorie was convinced something was not adding up. The first missing case infuriated the leader of the White Glove Society. She was appalled that someone would try to tarnish their reputation.

But, now with this second case … well Marjorie grew suspicious. Thus, she resorted to searching through the accessible files. She was now looking through the investigator's record, interested in whether he had actually checked out. The record showed that he was still in the building. This confused Marjorie. She hadn't seen him recently. A look in his room couldn't hurt surely?

Her thoughts interrupted by the arrival of the Courier. Marjorie immediately clicked off the files and quickly smiled,

"Hello again. How may I help you?" The Courier answered,

"Well, how can I put this? I've been looking around this place and, seriously, I'm impressed with this casino. You have class. Gomorrah? Pfft, that place's a sleazy brothel! And the Tops? Don't get me started! But the Ultra-Luxe? Now this is THE casino. And I've decided I want to become part of your society, that is if you allow it."

While Marjorie raised a suspicious eyebrow, the Courier was trying her damn best to hide the smirk threatening to form. Marjorie replied,

"Hmm, we don't usually allow any old riff-raff in our society. We do allow honorary members. However one has to be impressionable before we consider." The Courier's smile twitched. She wasn't expecting this.

"Ah," the Courier began. Her brain was rattling with the past things she had done. She could tell Marjorie how she got Primm a new sheriff? Wait, she wouldn't like the fact he's an ex-NCRCF prisoner. Maybe the time she alerted NCR about Nipton? Hang on, White Gloves aren't keen on the NCR are they? CRAPP!

Through the Courier's worry, one idea did pop up. Who do the White Gloves hate most? Chairmen of course! So, wouldn't they just love it if they found out that the leader of said tribe went on walkies? Bingoo!

The Courier leaned on the counter and began,

"Well, remember how the guy who runs the Tops, Benny, just disappeared all of a sudden?" Marjorie nodded. The Courier continued with a smirk,

"Let's just say you're talking the girl who caused him to disappear." Marjorie's eyes widened, while a big smile formed on her lips. She gasped,

"You?" The Courier nodded smugly. Marjorie's eyes narrowed in suspicion. She questioned,

"How?" Thinking fast, the Courier tapped her nose,

"That's for me to know. But just for the record, he's not dead."

Marjorie looked at the Courier, impressed. The Courier felt relieved. Honestly, she had no fucking clue where Benny went off to. If he only he hadn't had his mitts on the Chip, the Courier could just happily forget about him.

"In that case, I think it's only appropriate that you become a honorary member at once." She pulled out a small card. Written on it were the words, 'Honorary Member', complete with the White Glove Society logo above.

The Courier thanked Marjorie and set off to the private section. She pushed the rails blocking the entrance aside and went through the door. Sure enough, there were two female guards standing by, glaring at the Courier. Nervously smiling, the Courier showed them her new card. They nodded, but still glared. The Courier was about to leave them, until a White Glove member went up to her. She wore the usual pink dress and her blonde hair was made into a tight bun.

She greeted the Courier,

"Ah you must be one of our new honorary members!" The Courier nodded. The White Glove shook the Courier's hand a little too enthusiastically, adding,

"Call me Lynette, I meet and greet the honorary members like yourself. You are?" The Courier smiled,

"Oh, my name isn't really important for you to know." Lynette's smiled faltered a little as she replied,

"Oh okay. Well then, I best give you a tour of the Member's Only Section of the Ultra-Luxe and-"

"Actually," interrupted the Courier, "can I skip the tour? It's just that I'm not here for long. Things to do, people to see." The two women let go of each other's hand. Lynette's smile continued to falter.

"Oh right, well after the tour I usually present honorary member with a gift from the Ultra-Luxe, the finest formalwear in the Mojave." She then led the Courier fully into the Member's Only Section. The hall was similar to the Gourmand, where in the centre was a large table, made to fit every White Glove member for their dinners. On the one of the table, nearby was a stage with dark green curtains, complete with the White Glove Society logo. Lastly, there were doors near the table, presumably leading to other areas, like oh I don't know, the suites? The kitchens?

Lynette led the Courier into one of the doors, near to the stage. She opened the door and allowed the Courier to go in first. The door led to a room filled with wardrobes. There were also tables, with canes and the odd formalwear lying about. It was quite similar to the stockroom at the Kings' place. Lynette went to one of the wardrobes and rummaged through it. She quickly picked out a standard pink dress and gave it to the Courier.

Smiling gleefully, she said,

"Try this on." The Courier folded the dress in her arm and went over to the table to put all her items on it. She was about to take her jacket off when she notice Lynette was still looking at her. With that stupid smile plastered on her face.

"Can I have some privacy please?" the Courier hinted. Lynette replied,

"Oh, don't mind me. I'm used to seeing naked people." The Courier raised an eyebrow. She was tempted to say,

"I bet you are, you slag," but had to bite her tongue. Instead, she quickly got out of her clothes and put on the pink dress. She had to admit, the dress was pretty nice. But whether it suited her was a different question. After all, it had been a _long_ time since she owned a dress, let alone wear one.

Lynette's smile widened as she saw the dress on the Courier.

"That looks perfect!" Clapping her hands, like some hyper teenager doped on Jet, she went over to the Courier and examined her more closely. This was starting to freak out the Courier. Lynette, not noticing, commented,

"This dress really does fit your figure. You should wear dresses more often." The Courier muttered,

"Um, thanks." Lynette went a step further by placing her hands on the Courier's hips.

The Courier instantly back away.

"What are you doing?" Lynette gave the Courier a confused look, blush creeping up on her face. The Courier added,

"Are you getting a turn on by doing this job or what? You horny mare!" Lynette's expression grew horrified. She glared at the Courier,

"How dare you! Just because you're Mr House's new saint doesn't mean you can get away with anything, insolent girl! Why, I have a good mind to-"

"To do what? Consume my human flesh?" retorted the Courier. Lynette grew quiet, her glare not fading. Soon enough, she stormed off muttering the Courier every name under the Sun.

Sighing, the Courier went back to her items and put them back in place. It was only then she realised she had actually put her silenced pistol on the table as well. She wondered why Lynette never noticed. The answer became obvious.

"_Because she was staring at me, not at the table!_" she thought. Looking at her dress one more time she had to admit, the dress did compliment her figure. She made a mental note to keep it. It come in handy when dealing with certain people.

Getting back to the plan, the Courier looked out of the room. Nobody was in the hall, only the two guards up ahead. She wondered which door led to the kitchens. It seemed it would have to be a case of elimination. Eliminated the door that seem unlikely and then go to the door that's left. Although the problem was that all the doors were identical. Typical.

However, nearby the guards was a door that was had a very high chance of leading to the kitchen. Counters were near it that had items such as water jugs and coffee pots cluttered on them. Sneaking closer to the door, the Courier noticed the coffee pots were covered in rust. They were most likely junk from the Pre-War days. However, the water jugs were sparkling clean; as though they had been recently washed. This, to the Courier, was a big hint saying the door led to the kitchens.

She looked over to the guards, who talking to each other with cigarettes in their hands. Basically not doing their job. The Courier took this chance to quickly sneak into the kitchen door. Luckily the guards never noticed her.

On the other side of the door was a staircase, leading down to a lower level. The Courier became apprehensive. Was she able to go down there and see the horrors that these cannibals were capable of? In her mind, she visualised a disturbing image of a burnt man on a spit roast. She turned green at the thought and heaved. Luckily, she didn't vomit from the heave. The Courier ran her fingers through her hair, took a deep breath and went down the stairs, ready to carry out the next stage of the plan.

* * *

Two chapters in the space of one week? You lucky people. Think of this as your Christmas present XD. Next chapter will be out next year. Happy Christmas and New Year :)


	6. Drugs and  Blackouts?

The kitchens could be described in two words. Shit scary. The Courier was greeted by a White Glove with a flamer, which was throwing fire to some kind of meat on a spit roast. She quickly passed the scene, trying not to think of what the meat could be. After this sight, the Courier found herself in a long corridor that turned at the end, with doors leading off to other rooms. All of these doors were open, which made things a bit easier for the Courier.

"Right," she mumbled under her breath, "I need to organise myself." In her mind, the Courier silently calculated her plan. There were three things she needed to do. Drug the wine, get substitute meat in the food instead of actual human meat and rescue Heck's son.

"_Shouldn't be too difficult_," she thought, with a small smile on her face. The first objective she decided to tackle was the wine. Out of all of them, this seemed the easy task. Simply put in any old drug in the bottle, shake and it's ready to serve.

With her plan all sorted, the Courier decided to find where they kept the wine. After glancing through couple of rooms, she found a room that had another door. On the door read 'Cellar'. Making sure no one else was in the room, the Courier hurried to the door and opened. She was faced stairs leading down to a basement. The Courier closed the door, praying no one would lock it while she was down there. She went down the stairs and looked around the basement.

The basement consisted of many barrels that were in middle of the room. On the walls were wooden cupboards that held many wine bottles. The Courier realised she had a problem. Where was the wine that was for tonight's meal? She couldn't get any old bottle and she didn't have enough time or drugs to put in every wine bottle. Luckily, she saw one of the barrels had a wine bottle on the top of it with a note. Looking closer at the note, the Courier read:

'_For tonight._' The Courier gave a small sigh of relief.

She walked towards the barrel and lifted the bottle. The fact that there was only one bottle created a question in the Courier's mind. How many White Glove members were going to be at the meal? If there was only one bottle, then that meant not many would attend the meal. Or there weren't many members in the White Glove Society?

The Courier rolled her eyes at herself. Now was not the time to be developing an inner monologue. Focusing back to the task, she laid down the bottle and wondered which drug would be best to use. Psycho was out of the question; the Courier had heard tales of what Psycho did to those doped up Fiends. She didn't want junked up White Gloves going on mad murder rampages. Jet probably wasn't a good chem to use either. The Courier wasn't entirely sure what effects that drug caused.

After some thinking, she decided to use Med-X instead. Similar with Jet, the Courier hadn't a clue as to what the effects could be. She hoped they wouldn't be as bad as Psycho. After opening the cork (which took some work),She got out two syringes containing the chem and squirted them in the bottle. She put the cork back on and shook the bottle, making the drug blended into the wine. The Courier laid back on the barrel and hurried off out of the cellar, with a satisfied grin on her face. Stage one was complete!

Fortunately, no one was around when the Courier left the cellar. Now all she had to do was to find the cook and somehow knock him out. Maybe she could find a saucepan and hit the cook in the back of the head? The Courier went back to the corridor and went back to glancing through rooms.

She managed to find where the meal was being prepared by hearing sounds of food boiling on a cooker. Getting closer to the room she found what looked like a normal kitchen from the Pre-War days. Set up with many counters, fridges and cookers, the room even had a door that probably led to the pantry. Alarm bells went off in the Courier's mind.

"The pantry!" she gasped, an idea popping into her mind. That was where they would have hidden Tim Gunderson! To keep him fresh! Where else could they have put in him?

Forgetting about the chef and the meat, the Courier hurried to the door and opened it, going into the pantry. However, there was no Tim Gunderson. Only stacks of Pre-War food and crates of Nuka-Cola and Sunset Sarsaparilla. The Courier frowned. If he wasn't here, then where could Tim be? Looking at her Pip-Boy, it was only half 5 so they wouldn't have chopped him already. Unless there were two pantries?

In all her hype, the Courier failed to notice the sound of approaching footsteps. Just as she was about to turn around and leave the pantry, she felt something solid hit the back of her skull. The pain was immense and she couldn't hear anything clearly. All she could concentrate on was the pain. She fell to the floor, while in the distance she was able to hear a man mumbling. However the Courier wasn't able to make out what he was saying. Suddenly everything grew black and before she went unconscious, one thought sprang in her mind.

"_FOR FUCK'S SAKE!_"

* * *

A/N: I admit, it's a bit ... short. Hopefully you've enjoyed it XD The next chapter will be longer I promise!


	7. Shit's Going Down!

"_Guess whose waking up here?_"

"_Come on man! Would ya get it over with?_"

"_You made your last delivery kid._"

"_Sorry you got twisted into the scene baby. From where your kneeling must seem like a 18 karat run of bad luck._"

"_Truth is, game was rigged from the start._"

BANG!

The Courier instantly woke up, confused with her surroundings. The bang she heard made her worry that she was back at the graveyard all those weeks ago. Quickly she realised she was in the Ultra-Luxe kitchens. And the noise was caused by the chef dropping a small crate. She looked up to the chef, whose face was covered in panic.

In his panic, the chef quickly left the pantry and shut the door. The Courier stood up and ran to the door. She banged her fists on the door, shouting,

"LET ME OUT YOU CANNIBAL!" The chef made no reply. Putting her ear against the metal door, she could faintly hear something being dragged up to the door. Her eyes widened. He was putting something up against the door so she couldn't escape! She looked at her Pip-Boy. It was now half 6! She only had half an hour to put in the substitute meat into the meal AND find Tim.

The Courier quickly scanned around the room. There had to be something that could help her. Analysing the room, she found several large crates. While she was out cold, the chef must have been moving the crates into the pantry. That would explain why he dropped one when she woke up. The Courier went over to the crates, hoping they wouldn't be too heavy to lift.

Lifting one up, the Courier was glad to find out that they weren't as heavy as she expected. Sure, they weren't light as a feather but when you've had to carry a Missile Launcher at times, she was used to the weight. She waddled over to the door with the crate. Closing her eyes, the Courier used all her strength and threw the crate straight at the door. Unfortunately, the crate had no effect. The door didn't budge at all.

The Courier glared at the door. Her temper rising, she thrashed her fists on the door once again.

"GET THIS FUCKING DOOR OPEN NOW!" This time, the chef made a reply. He called back,

"NO! I WILL NOT HAVE TRASH LIKE YOU RUINING A SPECIAL NIGHT!" The Courier gasped at the insult. Bitch she would have been used to. Heck even whore she would be fine with, since that was a common insult for her in New Vegas.

But trash? Oh. Hell. NO!

Grating her teeth angrily, the Courier opened up a crate. It was full of Sunset Sarsaparilla. With an idea in her mind, she snarled back,

"TRASH AM I? WELL THEN! WHY DON'T I JUST 'TRASH' YOUR LITTLE PANTRY UP?' Grabbing a bottle of the root beer beverage, she threw it on the floor. And another. And another. She carried on until the crate was empty. The floor was littered with broken glass, bottle caps and Sunset Sarsaparilla. The Courier could hear a horrified gasp from the other side of the room. She grinned wickedly.

She continued the trash place, by grabbing Pre-War food, opening the packaging and pouring out the contents onto the floor. After going through a few Pre-War items, the metal door opened and the chef appeared, his face red with anger. The Courier instantly got out her silenced pistol and aimed it at his face. The chef put his hands in the air, his face losing colour.

With a stony glare, the Courier questioned,

"Where's Tim Gunderson?" The chef replied nervously,

"I don't know who you're on about!" The Courier repeated her question again, with a harsher tone,

"Where is Tim Gunderson?" Sweat appeared on the chef's forehead. He quickly stammered,

"H-he's dead! The d-dinner's all s-sorted!" The Courier's eyes widened. If Tim was dead and the meal was done, then where was it?

Not bothering to ask the chef the question in her mind, she quickly lowered her aim and shot the chef's foot. Crying out in pain he fell on the floor, crawled into the fetal position. She passed him and closed the pantry door, locking it so the chef wouldn't be able to escape. The Courier now focused her task on finding the meal. There were no pans on the cooker and no food on the counter. This must have meant that the meal had already gone.

Now in panic mode, the Courier set off to find where the meal was taking place. Luckily no one was in the kitchens so she wouldn't be caught by anyone passing by. She found the stairs leading to the hall. Running up the stairs, her breath became haggard and her heart was beating madly. When she got to the door, the Courier took a deep breath and open the door slowly, making no noise.

The hall was filled with White Glove members. They were all sitting at the table, with Marjorie in the middle with Mortimer right by her. The colour went from the Courier's face as she saw lower rank White Glove members, serving the meal. Looking for a place to hide, she looked straight towards the curtains at the stage. She sneakily ran to the stage and hid behind the curtains. Opening the curtains for a small peephole, she was able to watch the next events.

After the dinner was served, wine was served to the White Gloves. Wine was poured from many bottles into glasses. This was what the Courier was worried about. Drugging the one wine bottle was simply wasted time and it was supposed to be one thing she had done right. The Courier sighed sadly. However she certainly wasn't expecting what would happen next.

Marjorie and Mortimer were given their wine. While Mortimer was swirling the red liquid, Marjorie drunk some of the wine. After her sip, she put the glass down. The Courier could see Marjorie's eyes widen and turn to Mortimer. She whispered something into his ear. He began to take a sip of the wine. The Courier realised; they had the drugged wine! However her joy was short-lived as Mortimer called for another bottle and they both got rid of their original glasses. The Courier pouted in misery,

"_Great, just freaking great_."

They were given another bottle, and the lower rank White Glove member took away the drugged wine bottle. After he left, Marjorie stood up from her seat and announced,

"Before we eat our dinner, we must gave thanks to Mortimer," she signalled to Mortimer, who was showing a disgusting smile, "who discovered this new delicacy, which I believe is Horned Pig with fava beans." All the White Glove Society gave applause to Mortimer, who smug grin widened.

After the applause, Marjorie sat down which gave a cue to the members to start their meal. The Courier couldn't stand to watch them unknowingly eating human meat and was about to emerge from the curtain. However, she heard a small shuffle of feet to her side. The Courier immediately grabbed her pistol. She heard another shuffle of feet, by her left. Taking a risk, she rushed into what she imagined was a White Glove member.

She was right as she pushed into a man who stumbled by the surprise attack. Grunting, he got back on his feet and quickly put on the backstage lights. Thinking fast, the Courier held up her pistol and took a shot at the man. But Lady Luck left her side, as the pistol was out of ammo. While the Courier glared at her gun, the White Glove member smirked evilly. He held up his cane and took a swing at her.

The Courier ducked and the man missed her. She ran to some boxes that were on the floor of the backstage. Rummaging through them quickly, she found a box full of canes. She grabbed one and turned, just in time to see the White Glove take another hit at her. This time, he managed to hit the Courier by the thigh. She closed her eyes in pain as the hit gave her a dead leg and she collapsed. The White Glove straddled her and began to strangle her by the neck.

Gasping for air, the Courier used her arms to try and fine some kind of weapon. She found the cane she had previously used and grabbed it tightly. With all her strength, she hit the White Glove on his head. She got him right in the temple of his head and his immediately loosened his grip on her and fell to the floor. Taking deep breaths, the Courier got to her feet and hit the White Glove with the cane on his back. He didn't respond to the attack. He was either dead or unconscious. The Courier didn't give one; she had more important things to consider.

Speaking of important things, she went back to the curtains and peeked out to see what was now happening. During her fight with the White Glove, the White Glove Society had managed to eat their meal and were now waiting for the dishes to be taken away. The Courier closed her eyes and sighed sadly.

"_I'm gonna need a strong drink after this_," she mused.

While the White Glove were dabbing their mouths with their napkins, Mortimer stood up. The Courier opened her eyes and started to become worried. She remembered he was going to reveal where the meat actually came from. The outcome of this would be unpredictable. The White Glove Society could actually like the fact they had become cannibals and then proceed to find and eat the Courier. Or, on the other hand, they could become outraged and proceed to murder him brutally. It could go either way.

Mortimer began,

"Now that we have eaten our meal, I must reveal that the meat did not, in fact, come from a Horned Pig." All around the hall, members began looking at each other with concerned looks. He continued,

"First of all, I must stress how we should re-enlighten ourselves to the old practices of our proud Society. Myself and a few others have in the last few months started up our old practices and recently we feel everyone in the White Glove Society should join us. Therefore, I reveal to you all that the meal you have just consumed is human flesh." He finished with a proud smile, holding his head up high.

Many of the members gasped, horrified. Marjorie instantly stood up and glared at him. She questioned angrily,

"You mean to tell me that we have actually eaten human flesh? That we have acted as cannibals?" Mortimer nodded,

"Why yes. Yes I do." Marjorie called out, never taking her eyes off Mortimer,

"My gun please." One of the members ran to her room and quickly came back with a pistol. What type of pistol the Courier couldn't tell.

The White Glove gave Marjorie her pistol. She put right against Mortimer's forehead, who still displaying a smug grin, and pulled the trigger. A bloody mess resulted from her actions. Mortimer's body fell to the floor, while Marjorie gave her pistol back to the White Glove. The whole room went deadly silent, the White Gloves unsure of what would happen.

Suddenly, the entrance to the Member's Only Section burst open and many men welding shotguns and rifles ran into the hall. The White Glove body guards held their pistols and canes in response. The Courier noticed all these men looked similar to Heck Gunderson's bodyguard from yesterday. Her mouth dropped when she saw Heck and his bodyguard arrive and faced Marjorie. He asked, his tone filled with rage,

"Where is my son?" Marjorie didn't answer, her voice gone. The Courier felt sorry for her. It should have been Mortimer who had to deal with this, not her. Heck asked again, louder,

"WHERE IS MY SON?"

There was still no answer. Growing impatient, Heck whispered to his bodyguard. The bodyguard immediately started his shooting at Marjorie. The other men joined in, shooting at the other White Glove members. The White Glove defended themselves, hitting the men with canes or using their own pistols. The scene was turning into a Western brawl.

The Courier appeared from the curtains, hoping no one would notice. Luckily everyone was too absorbed in the fight. The Courier jumped from the stage onto the table and ran to the other side. She managed to avoid any flying bullets and when she got to the other side, she quickly ran to the main part of the Ultra-Luxe.

Outside the Members' Only Section, the Courier found herself caught up with fleeing travellers. She decided to merge in the crowd so no one would notice. As she got to the main casino and entrance she saw Securitrons going past her in the direction of the fight. Just before leaving, she quickly found her weapons and took them all back. While doing this, she observed the scene. Just an hour ago, Ultra-Luxe was a refined casino whose organisation was full of posh, snooty snobs. Now, it was a chaotic mess with people fleeing, not knowing the true reason for doing so.

Taking one last look at the casino, she left and join others in running away from the casino. Outside, travellers were getting their breath back, Securitrons were entering the Ultra-Luxe and NCR troops were observing the scene, confusion spread across their faces.

The Courier sat down near the fountain and looked up at the sky. The sky was beautiful with its twinkling stars and crescent moon. Frowning she muttered,

"I need a drink."

* * *

A/N: I told you this one would be long. I aim to please ;D Next chapter will be the last one. Hope you've enjoyed. :)


	8. Aftermath

_"__How lucky can one guy be? I kissed her and she kissed me ..."_

At the Aces theatre, Bruce Isaac was on stage crooning one of the classics. The theatre was busier than usual on a Thursday. When Swank entered, he was surprised at how many people there were. But the amount of people in the theatre was nothing compared to the casino part of the Tops. The last time he had seen the place packed was ... well he had never seen it packed!

Pushing through people, Swank managed to get to the bar. While ordering a Nuka-Rum, he found Tommy, who looked as though he could hardly believe his luck. He gave Tommy a playful slap on the back and said loudly, "It's our lucky day eh?"

Tommy, with a large glass of whiskey in one hand, grinned, "Like a dream come true."

After taking a gulp of his beverage, Tommy asked,

"Hey, do you know why so many gamblers are in here?" Swank shook his head.

"I don't ask questions Tommy. I just watch and appreciate, you dig?" he replied, taking a swig of the Nuka-Rum. Tommy leaned to Swank and whispered,

"Well, I've been hearing some bad stuff's been happening at the Ultra-Luxe."

Swank's eyes widened. Bad stuff at the Ultra-Luxe? Now that was a rarity!

"Serious? And what is this 'bad stuff' exactly?" Swank asked with curiosity. Tommy shrugged his shoulders, looking at his drink,

"Beats me. Hell, half the people don't know either." Swank had to accept this reply and not dwell any further. He learned good business should never be questioned.

After the conversation, Swank scanned the room, taking in the sight before him. Now would be the perfect time to have a working camera! All the gamblers spending their money, keeping cats like Swank a reason not to look back on the old days. However, he noticed one gambler wasn't paying attention to Bruce Issac nor had a drink in their hand. In fact, this gambler was slumped on the table, with their head in their arms as though sleeping. Swank frowned at the sight.

He turned back to Tommy and signalled him to look at the strange gambler.

"What's biting him?" Swank asked. Tommy looked over and replied causally,

"That 'him' would be Benny's gal." Swank immediately looked back to check, and could make out the long hair covering the small frame of the gambler's body. Swank had to let out a small laugh at his mistake.

"So what's got to her then?" Swank again asked, this time correcting himself. Tommy replied,

"She didn't say anything to me. For all we know, she's sexually frustrated and can't take it out on Benny." The conversation ended in laughter and Swank left Tommy to go talk to the Courier.

The Courier gave a good impression of someone asleep. Her arms were sandwiched between her head and the table. Her head was neither lying right nor left and her hair covered her face. However, Swank could see her right foot swaying from side to side to the music. Swank smirked at her cover and sat on the seat opposite. The Courier didn't react to his arrival, still creating the impression of being asleep. Unfortunately for her, Swank didn't buy it.

"So what's troubling the high-roller?" he asked with a small smirk on his face. The Courier lifted her head slowly with suspicious eyes. Her hair became a bit messy but she didn't bother to tidy it. The Courier questioned, "Shouldn't you be working?"

"My shift's over. Now back to _my_ question baby," Swank replied, emphasising the second part of his answer. The Courier gave a small pout, annoyed that she wasn't able to get pass his question. She leaned closer to him.

"Have you heard about what's happened today?" The Courier said quietly. Swank shook his head, saying,

"Not exact details. Most I've heard was that some 'bad stuff' happened over at the Ultra-Luxe."

As soon as Swank mentioned the Ultra-Luxe, the Courier showed a pained expression her face. Swank immediately caught this and added,

"You wouldn't happen to know anything about it would ya, baby doll?" The Courier's eyes drifted down to the table, a definite sign of her discomfort.

"I might do," she meekly said. Swank raised an eyebrow, not convinced enough with her short answer. The Courier looked up at him and sighed,

"Major shit is happening at the Ultra-Luxe. Basically, Heck Gunderson is trying to kill the White Glove Society because they ate his son. With guns blazing, everyone had to evacuate."

Swank took a small gasp of surprise. So ... turns out the White Gloves are cannibals. Swank had suspected those creepy cats of something shifty.

"Wow! You learn something new every day! How did that big secret get out in the open?" Swank asked, not expecting an answer. However, the Courier replied,

"Me."

"Huh?" Swank looked at her, confused. The Courier continued,

"I sort of found out that the White Glove Society had a group of cannibals that kidnapped people so they could eat them. So, because of that, I may have caused the Ultra-Luxe to turn into a chaotic mess." The Courier took just one breath to let the secret get off her chest. Swank sat there in stunned silence.

_"__Ain't that a hole in the boat?"_

After his temporary loss for words Swank wondered aloud,

"Well then, why aren't you living the good life for tonight baby? Many people, Benny and me included, have wanted to take those creeps a peg or two down. And if we succeeded, we'd be the happiest cats on the Strip! You've done the impossible and you're not even smiling! Why the glum face beautiful?" The Courier rested her elbows on the table and huffed,

"I feel bad about it."

Swank burst out laughing at her excuse. She felt bad about bringing the White Gloves down? The Courier glared at Swank and said,

"What the hell are you laughing about?" Swank wiped the tears coming from his eyes and replied,

"You! I tell ya, doll, you ain't cut out for the Wastes! I would've hated to see you make your first kill." The Courier continued to glare at him.

"Well I'm sorry, but not everyone is a heartless bastard from an old tribe in suits, _you dig_?" she retorted back in her defence.

Swank put his hands up in the air, smirking,

"I dig baby. But seriously, of all the bad things you could feel bad about, the White Glove ain't one of them. None of them deserves a river from your pretty eyes. If I were you, I'd get a drink and spend some quality time with the casino. You have done the impossible, kid. Celebrate the victory. Sure, people got killed but it's a dog eat dog world out there."

The Courier took another sigh, looking around the room. The crowd were memorized by Bruce Isaac's voice. If he was alive in the Pre-War days, the Courier was certain Bruce would have made it big. Turning back to Swank, she asked,

"How did you get over the whole murdering people thing?"

"Easy. I didn't call it murder. When you were in a tribe like the Boot Riders, you gotta get used to it," Swank answered.

Convinced with Swank's answer, the Courier leaned back into her seat. She stared into space for a few seconds. Swank didn't ask her what she was thinking; he was scanning the room, appreciating the scene before him. After those few seconds, the Courier grabbed Swank's Nuka-Rum and drunk it in one gulp. Swank noticed this and muttered,

"Help yourself, doll." The Courier began to get up. Just before she left, Swank asked,

"Where you heading off now?" The Courier turned around to face him. She replied,

"I'm going to make an attempt to follow your advice. First, I'm going to meet an old friend from Novac and then I'm going to find Benny."

Swank initial reaction was surprise, but he quickly smirked.

"When you see the big cat, kick him in the crown jewels for me." As the Courier began to head off she called out,

"I'll fit that in somewhere."

Meanwhile, Bruce Isaac was finishing the song, drawing applause from all over the theatre.

_"__Tell me quick! Oh, ain't that a kick? Tell me quick, ain't that a kick! In the head!__"_

* * *

BOOM! I've actually finished a story with chapters! :D Hope you've enjoyed the last chapter and thanks to the (very few) people that stuck with me till the end! Hope you've enjoyed the story throughout :)


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